


Everything Needs a Little Magic

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [17]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, No Angst, No Plot, So much kissing, and i feel no shame for that, bc you should capitalize on that as piotr's gf, completely self indulgent, guaranteed to cause cavities, i cannot emphasize enough just how fluffy this is, just fluff, nothing but fluff, pure fluff, starts fluffy stays fluffy ends fluffy, that's literally it - Freeform, which you do, you and piotr watch disney movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 05:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: You and Piotr spend the day watching Disney movies.That's it. That's the fic.Enjoy.(Set literally the day after "Myshka" and pre "Of First Dates and Not So First Kisses.")





	Everything Needs a Little Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scream at me on Tumblr: https://www.master-sass-blast.tumblr.com. I don't take requests right now, but I will answer whatever headcanons/asks/general fuckery you want to send my way.
> 
> Also, check out https://www.x-men-babe.tumblr.com! She does take requests, and her writing is fantastic! (She also has a masterlist, unlike my lazy ask; also read "Icebox." YOUR LIFE WILL BE BETTER FOR IT.)

Sunlight dapples the bright green undergrowth of the woods behind the X-Mansion. Birds chirp overhead, their merry sounding songs echoing up to the bright, flawless blue sky. Bees occasionally buzz past, in search of the next patch of cutely colored flowers.

It’s a picturesque day.

You, however, are not.

You’re absolutely drenched in sweat, slick and shiny with it as you jog on a well worn path in the woods. Your shirt and gym shorts cling to your body, darkened with your excess perspiration. Your hair is equal parts limp and frizzy, and the strands that have fallen out of your haphazard pony tail --tied during the ugly hours of the morning when you’d first woken up to start your work out--are plastered against your forehead or your neck. Your knees are smudged with dirt from where you tripped earlier --along with your hands--and you just generally look like a mess.

A happy mess, though. A well-exercised mess. This run has been a part of your daily routine for several months now, and you’ve built enough endurance to go the whole distance without stopping or passing out!

You are, however, realizing that you might need to get up earlier if you want to avoid the sweltering summer temperatures and the corresponding sweat bath. You’re not sure which is more disgusting --being so sweaty that people can see their reflections when they look at your skin, or getting up early.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting up early. Probably.

As you jog through the gardens and towards the back of the mansion, you spy Piotr sitting out by the back door in his human form, presumably waiting for you.

Part of it is elating --because just last night he confessed he was in love with you and borderline made out with you on a secluded bench behind a tree, and you’re always happy to see him--but part of it is groan worthy --because just last night he confessed he was in love with you and borderline made out with you on a secluded bench behind a tree, and right now you look absolutely awful.

You slow to a stop a few feet away from him and spread your arms wide, as if waiting for applause before taking a bow. “Behold me and all my drippy glory!”

Piotr chuckles as you flop onto the ground. “You look fine,  _myshka_. I take it your run went well?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, but it’s so damn hot.” You sit up and grimace when you try --and fail--to wipe stray blades of grass off your arms.

“Perhaps you should start waking up earlier.” He’s frowning now, concerned. “It is not good to run in this heat. You could make yourself sick.”

“Okay, I know you’re just trying to help me be healthy, but you should know that suggesting waking up anytime before eight is treason.”

He smiles fondly and shakes his head. “Will you listen if I offer something in return?”

“Absolutely. Even if it’s just you taking your shirt off. Especially if it’s you taking your shirt off. Can you tell I have a vested interest in seeing you with your shirt off?”

His cheeks flush red, but he laughs anyway as he holds out a water bottle to you. “I thought you would be thirsty, since you usually don’t take drink with you. Which--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not healthy.” You groan as you press the cool plastic against your hot skin, then take a few icy sips and sigh contentedly. “You’re a real prince among men. You know that, Piotr?”

“Last I checked, it’s called being nice.”

“Pretty sure you’re just an alien that thrives off being courteous.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks. “So, I am alien Prince?”

“I don’t see why not. You’ve got manners and can morph into a massive metal version of yourself. Pretty fuckin’ weird, if you ask me.” You guzzle a little more water, then groan as you push yourself into a standing position. “You’re dressed casual today. Is school not in?”

“ _Nyet_. We are out for year.”

Right. You knew that. Duh.

Your brain does the math of it’s own volition. 

The students and most of the teachers are out for the day and won’t be back until late evening. Those who’ve stayed behind will likely spend the day doing what they want. And, as if that wasn’t wonderful enough, Wade and Nathan are out of the house on a job for Weasel. 

You smile as an idea comes together in your head. “Are there any missions you have to go on.”

Piotr shakes his head. “ _Nyet_.”

“Do you have any hard set plans for the day?”

He’s smiling now, catching on to what’re you’re getting at. “I do not.”

“Then, what say you and I spend the day together once I’m done showering? I’m thinking marathon movie session.”

“I think I would enjoy that very much.” He opens the back door for you and ushers you inside. “But you really should take water with you on runs,  _moya lyubov’_. Dehydration is no joking matter.”

You hide your fond smile by lifting the spout of the water bottle to your lips and let your mother-hen boyfriend lecture you about proper athletic safety and the importance of being well hydrated.

God, you love this man.

 

* * *

Once you’ve thoroughly scrubbed yourself and put on some dry clothes that don’t reek of sweat, you pop downstairs in search of Piotr.

He’s in the kitchen, making an early lunch for himself. “Have you eaten yet,  _myshka_?”

“No. I prefer doing fasted workouts. You build more muscle that way.”

“ _Da_ , but you should eat something. You have burnt great deal of energy.”

“I’m going to.” You pat his arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? Believe me, I’m starving. There’s no way I’m going any longer without eating than I absolutely have to.”

The line of his shoulders relaxes as he exhales. “Sorry, I--”

“Don’t apologize, Pete. I like the way you’re sweet and want to take care of everyone; it’s endearing.” Then, to prove your point, you clamber up onto the stool next to him and kiss him.

Even though most of you is completely swept away by the sheer sensation of his lips pressing against yours, a tiny part of your brain still registers ‘ _holy fucking shit, I’m kissing Piotr, I’m his girlfriend now, I can kiss him whenever I want, this is so fucking awesome_ \--’

He breaks the kiss with a smile and rubs the swells of your cheeks with his thumbs. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of that.”

You grin and lean back in for another kiss. “Me either.”

He presses a gentle finger against your lips. “Eat something, please,  _dorogaya moya_.”

You kiss the pad of his finger and hop off the stool. “Fine. If you insist. So, what movies are we watching?”

“I thought I would let you choose. I put my DVD binder on table in rec room.”

You stealthily lift a pack of Pop Tarts out of one of the boxes Wade has stashed on top of the fridge, then use Piotr’s meal prep distraction to slip into the rec room with your hard earned treat in hand. You situate yourself on the couch, open the foil wrapper holding the breakfast pastry as quietly as you can, and shove half a Pop Tart in your mouth while you start flipping through the DVD booklet.

The sheer number of choices is overwhelming. You wouldn’t have pegged your boyfriend as a movie junkie. The case contains a little bit of everything, from some discs with titles in Russian --no surprise there--to cheesy rom coms to several pieces by Alfred Hitchcock.

What is surprising, though, is when you spy Disney’s Peter Pan movie at the bottom right corner of one of the ‘pages.’ After staring at it for a moment, wondering why Piotr would have a kid’s movie, you shrug it off and flip over to the other side.  _He’s a teacher. Of course he’d have a kid’s movie or two_.

Except it isn’t just one or two. Peter Pan is just the tip of the iceberg; a few quick, disbelieving flips to the end of the binder confirms that he has every Disney movie released on DVD, from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Moana.

_Woah. Did not see this coming_.

“Pop Tarts are not a meal,  _dorogaya moya_.”

“Agree to disagree.” You look up at him as he walks into the rec room with two plates of food. “Hey, why do you have so many Disney movies?”

“They are happy movies,” he says as he sets one of the plates in your lap. “Besides, I like the art and animation.”

“I’ve never seen ‘em. What makes them so great?”

“Well, the older ones were done by hand. Artists made backgrounds, then painted animation cels for each frame. The cels were photographed, then put together into full movie. It is...” His voice trails off as he tries to find the words. “Awe-inspiring, as artist, to watch. Compared to modern standards, the movies are arguably crude, but the amount of effort is... amazing. And I think the old movies are beautiful in ways that new movies aren’t. The texturing of the backgrounds, the softness... it is incredible.”

“Wow. That  _is_  cool. What about the newer ones?”

“Computer animation is fascinating. I doubt it will ever be ‘my thing’ but it is still interesting to watch. Plus, stories and plots are better written. Usually.”

“Always a good thing.” You shove the last Pop Tart half into your mouth and shrug. “Disney’s good. You pick where we start.”

“We start at beginning,” he says emphatically as he carries the DVD carrier over to the entertainment center.

You look down at the plate as he sets everything up and gasp when you realize it has a neat little pile of Cheetos on it. “Wait, is this for me?”

“ _Da_. I told you Pop Tarts were not meal.”

“Man, I scored a total package. How did that even happen?”

He blushes as he stands and walks over to the couch. “I think am I the one who ‘scored,’  _myshka_.”

You smile and sigh happily when he presses his lips against yours.

There’s no way life gets any better than this.

 

* * *

Life, in fact, does get better.

Namely, in the sense that you get to spend the whole day watching Disney movies with your boyfriend.

And in the sense that, if prompted, Piotr will literally spend several minutes explaining the behind the scenes effort that went into the animating the old movies, the techniques used by the artists to construct the backgrounds, and the sheer level of talent it takes to sync audio to _hand-fucking-painted_  animation.

That, and the movies are just that gorgeous. Granted, the writing in the newer ones are usually better --the two of you opt to hop back and forth between old and new since there’s no way you’ll make it through every single Disney movie in one day--but the level of artistry in all of them leaves you absolutely speechless.

“Man, I’ve really been missing out!” you murmur, awestruck, as you watch the ‘Whole New World’ sequence in Aladdin. “This is amazing! How did they even do this?”

“Much of animation was done on computers at this point,” Piotr says. “It allows for art to move better with music, more creative freedom.”

“No kidding.” You can’t help but smile as you watch the magic carpet soar up into the clouds as the music swells. “This is really beautiful.”

“ _Da_ ,” Piotr agrees softly.

And then he shifts closer to you, stretches his arms above his head, and lets one settle around your shoulders as he relaxes again.

Suddenly, your proximity to your boyfriend is a lot more interesting than the movie. You’re tucked against his side, sitting thigh to thigh, and his arm is warm and comfortably heavy on your shoulder.

You’re hit by a desire to kiss him --and it suddenly occurs to you that there’s nothing stopping you. The two of you are in a relationship, there’s no one around that would make doing it ‘inappropriate,’ and you’re practically on a quasi-date. There’s never been a better time for it.

You wriggle into his lap until you’re straddling him, propped up on your knees --he’s so much taller than you that at times it’s almost ridiculous--and loop your arms around his next before leaning into kiss him.

Piotr’s hands flit up and down your arms, your shoulders, and your sides before settling at your waist. He uses his hold on you to pull you close, bringing the two of you flush together.

You let out a happy sigh when he wraps his muscular arms around you, effectively cradling you against his burly chest, and kiss him harder. You’ve been pining for him for so long, and now that the two of you are together you never want to stop kissing him. Touching him. Being around him.

“Is this your way of saying that you don’t want to watch movie anymore?” Piotr asks, a little breathless, when the kiss breaks.

“No,” you murmur as you kiss the bridge of his nose. “I just love you.”

His cheeks flush a lovely shade of rose as he smiles sweetly at you. “I love you too,  _myshka_.”

You turn around and settle in his lap to finish watching the movie, snuggled happily in his arms.

This. Life definitely doesn’t get better than this.

 

* * *

Except it does. The universe is hellbent on proving you wrong today, and you’re loving every moment of it.

Once the film finishes, Piotr suggests that the two of you take a stroll through the gardens to get your blood flowing.

The carefully arranged and tended to patches of flowers and bushes look utterly wonderful in the golden, early evening light. A soft breeze stirs the late spring air, keeping everything perfectly comfortable as the two of you walk along the gravel pathways.

Piotr’s hand in solid and warm around yours, and you never expected such a small, simple form of contact to feel so exhilarating. You almost can’t believe that it’s real, that he’s really your boyfriend now and really loves you.

The two of you talk about whatever comes to mind --mostly the movies you’ve been watching--and take your time as you meander around the grounds of Xavier’s. There’s no reason to hurry; the students and teachers won’t be back from their beach trip for a few more hours, there aren’t any missions that need responding to, and with Wade out of the house on one of his jobs there aren’t any explosions or other disasters to shatter the easy, peaceful lull in the air.

“I’ve really enjoyed today,” you say quietly as you squeeze Piotr’s hand.

“So have I,  _dorogaya moya_. This has been... wonderful.” He stops --slowly enough that you don’t stumble or jerk back--and bends down to kiss you.

You smile into the kiss, and rest one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek.

It’s absolutely magical. Maybe the Disney movies have been rubbing off on your life.

“Think we have time for one more movie?” you ask when he pulls back.

“I think so,” he says with a soft, happy smile.

“Cool.” You grin giddily as you walk back to the house, hand in hand, the promise of more quiet, intimate, magic-filled time together beckoning alluringly.

This. Life doesn’t get better than this.


End file.
